Crossed Paths
by weirdfeels
Summary: Omegaverse AU. Sherlock doesn't believe in love and when his omega didn't come, his beliefs are strengthened, until the time when his omega actually did after 16 years. With Moriarty dead, someone was bound to get revenge on the pair. This is the story of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I'm reposting this from my other account on so if you stumble upon the exact same fic there, don't worry.

**WARNING:** This fic contains some adult scenes further into it, so if that's not your cup of tea then you should not be reading this.

* * *

Sherlock has never felt like that; the pure craving need for an omega. To bond with them. To love.

Yes, he has heard stories from his classmates in school about how complete they feel when they found their one true omega. Their mate. To Sherlock, they're just stories. Fiction. He has never felt the need for love even when he was first presented as an alpha.

And now 16 years later, he still doesn't believe in love. He believes in pleasure, in biology, but never in love. The thought of it was superfluous even. Irrelevant.

There were those times way back when he was first presented, that he actually _waited_ for signs of his omega. Waiting for that one day where he would smell the wonderful smell of his omega going through their first heat. Waiting to follow the trail of his omega directing him towards them. Feeling curious to what all the fuss about being bonded was about. But signs of his omega never came.

Sherlock waited everyday in his home for signs to show for 5 continuous years. And for all the times he waited, it never came. So he gave up, discarding the hope of someone actually needing him. No one would ever need him. He was Sherlock Holmes for God's sake. The _freak._

The day Sherlock gave up was the day John Watson was first presented as an omega.

* * *

When John first knew that he was an omega, he couldn't wait to meet his alpha. He has heard his friends saying about how fulfilling being with your alpha makes you feel. John wanted to feel that. Feel complete. Whole. To love and be loved.

When John encountered his first heat 2 months after he was presented, his alpha never came. His alpha didn't show up. His alpha left him writhing on his bed alone with the need to be filled. The wetness sensation of his lubricated hole was excruciatingly painful without his alpha shoving into him. His alpha has forgotten all about him. His alpha didn't need him. John cried that night, ignoring the pain of being in his first heat alone.

For the next 11 years, John and Sherlock danced to different music in different events. Going to different places. Never colliding into each other's paths until one day, they did.

* * *

Sherlock took out his phone and started to type out a text to Molly. He hailed for a taxi when he reached the street outside of 221B and climbed inside as soon as it neared him.

**Need to run some tests for a case. I'll be at the lab in 20. –SH**

"St. Bart's," Sherlock stated in a flat tone as he sat back into the seat and looked out the window. He's not watching the boring world do its tedious everyday jobs, instead he's in his mind palace reviewing back the facts and details that he has collected from the current case.

"I need to get some things from the lab first," Mike said cheerily as he looked at John, "then we'll go grab that drink, yeah?"

John looked at his watch; it was still early, 5 p.m. "Sure, I'll company you to the lab, then." John smiled, "besides, don't want to attract unwanted attention to myself in the pub if I'm waiting alone."

He and Mike walked back to St Bart's, where Mike works. They'd do this every week on a Thursday, just grab a couple of drinks in a pub to release some steam. Mike's a good friend of John's since high school after John introduced him to Sarah, Mike's omega, and they've been friends ever since.

When John walked into the lab behind Mike, he could see an unfamiliar figure hovering over a microscope. The man, obviously an Alpha by the unusually strong scent of him, had dark unruly curls and a lean body. John closed his eyes and smelled the air again because his scent was…_delicious_?

He shook his head and when he opened his eyes, he was met with piercing blue-grey eyes. With such a deep cupid's bow like that, the man had lips that should belong to a Greek God. They were closer now, only a foot away from each other. From here, John could smell his strong alpha scent even more and it smelled so good. Unusually good. _Oh God, I wan_-

John took a shaky breath to try to control himself.

"Hey, Sherlock," came Mike's voice, bursting the bubble of intensity, "this is an old friend of mine, John Watson."

_Sherlock,_ John repeated in his head, _Sherlock._

"Hello, John."

_Oh God, his voice! _John let out an involuntary whimper after hearing that deep rumbling voice say his name.

"U-Uh… Hi," John answered nervously, "I'm John."

_What on Earth am I saying? He already knows your name, you idiot!_ He scolded himself.

"Obviously," came the reply, "so John, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Uh… Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know?"

"I didn't know, I noticed," there was a confused silence for a minute before he let out an exasperate sigh and started to speak again, "Your haircut and the way you hold yourself says military. You look like you know your way around here, either you come here often with Mike or you studied here in your early years. Mike's statement of you being an old friend proves my suspicion that you trained at Bart's, so army doctor. Obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists therefore, you've been abroad but not sunbathing. Army doctor trained at St Bart's, suntan - Afghanistan or Iraq."

"Fantastic!"

Sherlock turned around to see the look of undisguised awe and amazement on John's face,"that's not what people normally say…"

"What do people normally say?"

"'Piss off!'"

John's laughter resonated all around the lab and the sound made Sherlock's heart flutter. He looked at Sherlock with such warmth that it was alarming. They just met but they acted like they've known each other for ages.

There was a text alert coming from behind John before Mike announced that he had to skip the drinks because Sarah needed him back home. Leaving John behind with Sherlock, Mike left the lab.

He turned back around to look at Sherlock, "so, do you work here? I've never seen you around."

"No, I'm working on a case," replied that deep voice, "using the lab to collect more data."

"A Case?"

"Yes, a case. I'm a consulting detective." He said while looking at John as if waiting for him to be impressed but John was only confused.

"Sorry, a… consulting detective?"

"Yup!" Sherlock answered with a pop of his lips at saying the word, "only one in the world; I invented the job."

"So what? You solve crimes on your own?"

"Not necessarily, usually I work with the police. Whenever they're out of their depth - which is always - they consult me.

"What case are you on now, then?"

And for the first time, someone was genuinely interested on what he was doing. Someone wanted to know more about him, his work, and his life. That someone just happens to be John Watson.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Again, I am reuploading this work from my other account on archiveofourown so don't worry if you stumbled upon it there. Also, I'm posting a chapter per day so enjoy

* * *

Sherlock knew right at the moment he figured that it was John who shot the cabbie, that he was different; that he was special. Somehow, John isn't among the boring, tediously stupid lot that has covered the face of the Earth. Somehow, he and John were two very different people that intersect with each other. He decided to make a Venn diagram of the new data in his mind palace.

He feels this pull towards John that he can't explain. So after the case of the murderous cabbie, Sherlock decided to give in to his instincts and ask John out to dinner. He turned around to see John already looking at him and he felt his heart skip so many beats he's afraid he's going to drop dead just by looking at him. He took a deep breath, "dinner?"

"Starving," John gave Sherlock his award winning smile and he swore he could've felt himself slowly falling for this man and his hideous jumpers. So he smiled back.

"Sherlock!" said the Italian beta, warmly, "anything, on the house for you and for your date!"

He smiled broadly while handing over the menus and left to let us decide what we were going to eat. "So I'm your date?" prompted John.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Sherlock looked confused and the expression didn't suit the detective but it was extremely adorable that john couldn't help but smile, "I was asking if this was a date"

It was silent for quite some time and he thought the conversation was over until Sherlock finally decided to answer, "…if you want it to be"

* * *

After their meals arrived, John couldn't stop it but he had to smell Sherlock's scent again. It's becoming highly addictive that it's boarding on alarming but it's not. He feels safe and comfortable around Sherlock. He loves how passionate Sherlock is about his work, how amazing his deductions are and how downright gorgeous he is.

John inhaled Sherlock's alpha scent from across the table and this action doesn't escape Sherlock's attention. He _is_the most observant man on Earth.

"Do I really smell that good to you?" Sherlock interrupted.

John's eyes snapped open and he blushed of embarrassment at being caught, he didn't even realise he had his eyes closed during the process.

John looked at Sherlock with undying attraction and affection. Not to mention sexual frustration, mind you. He wet his lips by darting out his tongue and swiping it over his lower lip slowly, tantalising Sherlock with its very suggestive meaning behind the action.

They silently continued their tennis-match of sexual torment, having this unmentioned mutual agreement. Sherlock would occasionally lean back into his chair to show off his torso, teasing it even more with the fact that the buttons should be flying off across the room by now. And John would slowly suck in his portion of the pasta that he was having for dinner while looking seductively at Sherlock. He might as well be screaming to the world that he gives _great_ head.

Clouded by the passion in the air, John couldn't help but let out a moan when Sherlock unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The moan didn't escape from under Sherlock's attentive observations. The sound of John's moan sent an electric impulse straight to Sherlock's groin. Suddenly, without warning, Sherlock felt something soft slowly gliding up his calf and the look of mischief on John's face just says everything.

John was caressing Sherlock's leg with his foot slowly. By the feel of it, he had toed off his shoe just to let Sherlock get a small glimpse of what he was missing out on. The look of hunger on John's face is heated and desperate. It does things to Sherlock that he wouldn't even dream could happen to him. He felt himself get harder with every ticking second. His pants getting uncomfortably tight around his groin, he shifted in his seat.

"J-john," Sherlock gasped when his foot reached his hardened cock.

John licked his lips again, and God help him because he couldn't handle it anymore. Sherlock sprang out of his chair and trapped John in his, with both his arms on the sides of the chair while his legs are on either side of John's thighs. He leaned down and licked John's earlobe, sucking it a bit and nibbling once in a while. He gave in to his Alpha hormones.

"Come home with me," whispered Sherlock seductively into his ear, his voice dropping an octave. It sent shivers down John's spine and he was only able to let out a small whimper.

John could feel his arse beginning to wet with its lubrication and his dick hard as rock. He _needed_ some form of release, so he rutted his cock to Sherlock's and they both moaned in pleasure, not caring the other people in the restaurant. Sherlock licked the delicious part of John's neck where all his sweet omega hormones are excreted. Their breaths shallow and fast, forced to become pants of need.

"We- oh God…" John was cut off when Sherlock bucked his hips to John's and they were both the picture of a mess, "We can't do this here. Let's go to your place."

And just like that, Sherlock pulled them both out of the Italian restaurant and into a cab in less than a minute. He continued to devour John's neck as soon as the cab door closed, licking wet stripes. Hot breaths hitting each other's faces, Sherlock turned around to look at the cabbie, "221B Baker Street!" and they slammed their mouths together, immediately darting out their tongues to _taste_.

It was frantic with clothes half opened and all. When they reached Sherlock's flat, he threw some bills toward the cabbie's direction and pulled John through the door without breaking their mouth contact. John could feel Sherlock's strong grip on his hips, pulling their hard dicks together, seeking more friction. They made their way across the cluttered living room to Sherlock's bedroom, shedding most their clothes on the way there, only leaving behind their pants intact. John in his unexpectedly bright _red_ pants while Sherlock in his black designer ones. Sherlock slammed John against the door of his bedroom while running his hands across John's body, feeling the rough skin under his palms. He slipped a hand into John's pants to cup his lush arse tenderly. John's hole was leaking with the pure need to be filled, he could feel the slide of his cheeks against each other. He was gasping when Sherlock slipped in a finger inside him, stretching his _tight _little hole.

"Do you like that?" he breathed into John's ear, "Do you like my finger in your wet omega arse?" That was the last thing that John's sane mind could process before he became a begging mess, and he sure as fuck wasn't ashamed of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate it. To those who are wondering, this fic is already finished and is posted up on archiveofourown, so if you are really itching to find out what's going to happen, you can head on up there. If you're fine with a chapter a day then please do proceed waiting. My account name on AO3 is weird_feels

* * *

Sherlock awoke to the slight shift of his bed and the comforting warmth enveloping the front of his body. He blinked the sleep away for a few times before registering the body that's tangled with his.

_John_.

He looks so peaceful and young without the worry lines etched on his face. Sherlock carefully stroked John's cheek as to not wake him. He tilted his head to memorise ever single one of John's features from every angle.

Sherlock leaned forward, closer to John, and he smiled to himself. He felt this strange but not unwanted warmth spread all throughout his chest. He loved the way John pouted slightly during his sleep, it was adorable. He kissed the top of John's head, just a press of the lips but he stayed like that for what seemed like years. He didn't realise that John was awake right until he heard a soft chuckle against his neck.

"Sherlock, mind telling me what you're doing?" Said the muffled voice.

Sherlock backed away from John slightly to enable them to look at each other. He grinned at him, "I couldn't help myself when you were pouting like that." Sherlock stated.

"Pouting?" John asked, looking bemused, "I don't pout!"

"Yes, you do and you look quite adorable when you do it too" Sherlock teased.

John tried to hide his blush from Sherlock by ducking his head, but the movement only caused him to be observed even more. So obviously, he failed to hide it. Instead of laughing at him, Sherlock pulled him close and kissed both his cheeks lovingly. Which then caused John to blush a shade darker.

"John, I need to ask you an important question..." Sherlock stated carefully.

John nodded an approval for Sherlock to go on and ask. Sherlock took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "do you want to move in with me?"

John was silent for a long time and Sherlock decided to give John his reason behind the suggestion, "I know it's pretty soon - really soon actually, but it feels like..." Stopping mid-sentence, he couldn't find the right words to explain how he felt about John, and that was frustrating because Sherlock _never_ gets stuck with words.

John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock, "like...?"

"Like I've known you all my life," continued Sherlock, "I'm comfortable around you, and I don't just get _comfortable_ with people, John."

"Okay."

Sherlock was dumbfounded with how simple John put it, "what?"

"Okay," John repeated, "I'll move in with you." And there it was again, his award-winning smile.

And here he was again, with his fluttering heart.

* * *

The next day, John had fully packed all his things in boxes, ready to move into Sherlock's flat. He didn't have that much things so all of them were abled to fit in one box.

He took a taxi to Sherlo- their flat and when he arrived there, Sherlock looked extremely pleased.

John placed the box on the arm chair that he had claimed as his, and began to unpack when he felt Sherlock's arms snake around his waist, "let's celebrate," Sherlock whispered while nibbling his ear.

Drawn to his Alpha scent and the fact that it was almost biologically impossible to reject an Alpha's plea for something quite intimate when he was that close to John, he succumbed.

"You're not even in your heat and still your smell is intoxicating," Sherlock whispered to John in a hoarse voice, inhaling the sweet omega scent behind his ear.

"Sh-sherlock..." John whimpered. It's a good thing Sherlock was holding him up as his knees were not functioning anymore.

Sherlock licked John's ear thoroughly, purposely breathing deeply down his neck just to torment him.

"...please," begged John, "Please, Sherlock, I need it."

"Need what, John?"

By now, John was lowered to a needy wet omega rutting his lubricating arse against the alpha. He groaned when Sherlock backed away from him, torturing him by denying his needy little hole.

"I want you to say it, John."

Blinded by his urgent need for pleasure, his hormone-driven mind abandoned all reasoning as he begged, "Please..." John turned his head to look at Sherlock, literally shaking with need, "I want your big alpha cock inside me."

"Why didn't you say so," Sherlock smirked. "All you've got to do was ask."

A minute later -or even less-, they were both naked with John's back pressed up against a wall. Sherlock aligned his throbbing cock in front of John's drenched hole and with one final reassuring kiss, Sherlock breached John's barrier. The slide of pleasure was even more intense than the first time and they both moaned in ecstasy.

They stayed in the position for a few moments, overwhelmed by the sudden increase in pleasure.

"Move," John instructed. Sherlock pulled his hips back and pushed in, watching his cock disappear inside of John. He repeated his movements slowly, in and out, in and out, in and out until John decided to clench his sweet little hole even _tighter_ and that's when Sherlock lost all his control. He pushed John up against the wall even harder, devouring his neck and pushing his hard cock impossibly deeper, establishing a rhythm that screams _desperate_ for more. John wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist, pulling him even closer and pushing back against him whenever Sherlock pushed in, creating intense stimulation for both of them. The only sounds that could be heard were of their pants, the loud slap of skin on skin and the occasional slick sounds of their messy kisses.

"I'm close," Sherlock panted, and he was about to let himself out of John, afraid to risk a knot in case they accidentally bonded, when John wrapped his arms even tighter around him.

"Bond with me..." Sherlock looked wide-eyed by what John just said, "...I'm _yours_."

And Sherlock climaxed not to the sound of their desperate pants or the slapping sound, or even their passionate kisses. Sherlock came to the sound of John's voice whispering that he was _his_.


End file.
